


An Open Invitation

by glorifiedscapegoat



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorifiedscapegoat/pseuds/glorifiedscapegoat
Summary: “Um,” Shion said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. His hands were folded in front of his waist. He had his head lowered, and Nezumi raised an eyebrow. "You forgot to invite me inside.”





	1. An Open Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! I'm excited to finally be able to post this one-shot. I'd had the idea for it for some time now, but Halloween felt like the most appropriate time. I've been dealing with some stuff in my life, in which I've finally cut an incredibly toxic person out of my life, so I'm glad to finally have the time and energy to write.
> 
> A big thanks to WhiteEevee for betaing this piece for me so it could be ready to post tonight! I've been kicking myself and going back and forth on whether or not I wanted to actually post it, but here it is!
> 
> For some context, this is a one-shot, but it exists in a universe I plan to eventually write about. Essentially it's a canon-divergent version of No.6 where everyone that lives in No.6 is a vampire (the city is built to support their life-style), and Shion crosses paths with a human named Nezumi who makes him aware of how horrific the world he lives in truly is.
> 
> When I _do_ eventually write this AU, I might come back to this and make it better. But for _now_, I am going to post this for all of you to enjoy!
> 
> Happy Halloween once again, ghosts and ghouls! Go out there and be spooky!

There was absolutely no reason for Nezumi to feel nervous.

None whatsoever.

He kept telling himself that, over and over, as he watched the door to the small bunker he called home.

It had been a little more than a week since they’d last seen each other, but that wasn’t all that surprising. With all the things that still had to be done in No.6—what with the new building construction, trade negotiation with the other city-states, new laws protecting each citizen regardless of race or species, and a new government in need of being formed—it was nothing short of a miracle that Shion could find any time at all to visit.

Negotiations between the humans of West Block and the vampires of the city formerly known as No.6 had been off to a rocky start. Years of conflict didn’t simply vanish overnight. Prejudices couldn’t be erased with simple apologies.

But Shion was an optimist. Every time someone knocked him off his feet, metaphorically or literally in more than a few instances, Shion dusted himself off and jumped right back up. Nezumi admired his determination. Unfortunately, Shion’s work on repairing human-vampire relations kept him away for indeterminate lengths of time.

It shouldn’t have mattered. Nezumi had gone much longer than a week without seeing Shion, so it made no sense that he would be this antsy about the prospect of seeing him again.

Nothing would be any different. Shion never changed. It would just be another normal visit, and then Shion would go right back to work. Nezumi would resume his daily life until another letter appeared at his door requesting a visit or the white-haired airhead surprised him by showing up at the theater to watch him perform.

Nothing would change, so it would have been extremely helpful if the nervous little jitters in Nezumi’s stomach would kindly fuck off.

And fuck off they did, for a few moments later, Nezumi caught the happy whine of the Collie Inukashi had sent to keep watch over Nezumi’s apartment.

The soft echo of footsteps chased the butterflies from Nezumi’s stomach, replacing them with a warmth that was almost painful. He felt giddy and stupid, and sometimes he wondered if this was what it was like to be Shion. To be this cluelessly happy all the time, without a single care in the world. It could be nice in small bursts, he supposed, but too much of anything was never good.

A quiet knock came at the door, and the butterflies came back with a vengeance. Nezumi cast a quick glance at himself in the mirror, scrutinizing his threadbare jeans, moth-eaten tee shirt, and messy hair dragged back in an uninspired ponytail. Perhaps he should have dressed in something a bit nicer.

He immediately shook his head. The fuck had he been thinking? Dress _nicer?_ Nezumi had never once went out of his way to dress up for one of Shion’s visits, and he wasn’t about to start now. He didn’t need the airhead wasting their limited time together with stupid questions.

Taking a deep breath through his nose that should have been calming, but only succeeded in making the butterflies worse, Nezumi called out, “One second.”

He crossed the room, took another deep breath, and opened the door.

Shion smiled back at him from the shadows of the hallway—that stupid, ridiculous smile that only an airhead like Shion could manage.

The hollow sensation beneath Nezumi’s ribs vanished. Something else replaced it, warm and heavy, when Shion cried, “Nezumi!” as if he was somehow surprised Nezumi had answered the door. And if he was being completely honest with himself, Nezumi preferred that Shion didn’t know that he’d been staring at the door for the better part of three hours, waiting for the sound of Inukashi’s Collie to emit a greeting howl.

“Evening,” Nezumi replied. On the table behind him, Tsukiyo and Cravat watched with beady, grape-purple eyes, and Nezumi wished both of them would find something better to do with their downtime. “How was your day?”

Shion launched into a tirade about the frustrating negotiations between the remnants of the vampire officials and a few stubborn humans, interrupted only by the sound of the Collie flopping on the carpet with a pitiful whine, aggravated at being ignored. Nezumi listened patiently to Shion’s recounting of the long walk between No.6 and West Block, of running into Inukashi and Shion Jr., of how big the latter had grown in such a short time, and how Shion thought he saw Rikiga walking down the street with a girl.

Nezumi snorted at that part. Rikiga had been down in the dumps since Shion’s mother Karan had turned him down, again, and it was probably a good thing he had started to move on. Nezumi felt a pang of pity for a girl who would lower herself to dating a geezer like Rikiga, but even so, it was...nice to think he might have found someone.

There was nothing extraordinary about Shion’s trip. Nothing at all like the adventures he and Nezumi had gone on in the rare moments they’d been able to spend time together. And yet Shion managed to make it sound like an incredible epic—not quite up to Beowulf’s standards, but surprisingly close. Nezumi hung onto every word that fell from Shion’s lips.

Nezumi let Shion ramble in the doorway for a moment, and then Shion glanced into the room over Nezumi’s shoulder. His eyes went round with surprise. “Oh! You got more books!”

“A few, yeah,” said Nezumi, jerking his chin to the heap of torn, leather tomes he’d scrounged up from a ruined bookstore in the center of West Block. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Shion picked up on the new books—when it came to literature, Shion had become rather attentive. No doubt he had already memorized the long list of titles lining the shelves. There must have been thousands, but Shion knew them all.

Nezumi had considered getting rid of some of the older ones—but when he mentioned it to Shion the last time they’d seen each other, curled up together in the sheets, Shion had thrown a fit. Nezumi didn’t get what the big deal was. He’d memorized most of them, and Shion had already read them all, but it was the principle of the thing, Shion had insisted. And so the mounds and mounds of books remained, cluttering up the small bunker.

Nezumi didn’t mind having so many books to paw through. It made the lazy days when he wasn’t at the theater or spending time with Shion less boring.

He turned away from the door and went toward one of the piles. He’d managed to acquire a well-read copy of George Orwell’s _1984_ at one of the thrift shops. He’d been eager to show it to Shion, knowing he would recognize the irony of a dystopian society—and then he noticed Shion was still standing in the doorway.

“Um,” Shion said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. His hands were folded in front of his waist. He had his head lowered, and Nezumi raised an eyebrow. "You forgot to invite me inside.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Nezumi winced. How could he have forgotten something like that? It was the Most Important Rule, after all. Nezumi made a large, sweeping gesture into the room and said, in a theatrical voice, “Please, come in, Your Highness. _Mi casa es su casa_. Home sweet home and all that bullshit.”

“Thank you,” said Shion with a wide smile, and it was beautiful in a way that Nezumi just couldn’t place. It sent little shivers of happiness through him. He scrubbed a hand down his face as Shion stepped easily into the room and shrugged off his coat.

“Shion, look,” said Nezumi.

It was a bit frustrating to have to keep assuring Shion that it was all right to enter his living space, but Nezumi understood it wasn’t a choice. It was a defense mechanism for humans. Back when things had been awful, Nezumi appreciated that someone from No.6 couldn’t just waltz into his house without his knowledge. And sometimes it had even been amusing—coming home late from the theater to find Shion curled next to the front door, bundled in his jacket and waiting impatiently to be invited inside.

But there was little need for defense now.

So Nezumi looked Shion dead in the face and said, “I don’t know if it works like this, but you don’t need an invitation. You’re always welcome. Any time, anywhere I am. All right?”

The look on Shion’s face was stunning. He hung the coat up on the rack. “That means a lot, Nezumi. Thank you.”

Nezumi noticed Shion didn’t answer his question, but he wasn’t one to pry.


	2. Behind Closed Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the NSFW continuation of the first part~

Shion took his shoes off by the door and looked around the bedroom: bed, a small pile of clean dishes, a cold cauldron, a dust-covered piano, a maze of bookshelves. He gravitated toward the pile of new books, tongue poking out of his mouth as he read faded titles off the spines.

Nezumi gave him a moment to read through the books and select a few he’d be interested in borrowing. He waited for Shion to turn with that alluring, guilty expression he seemed to adopt whenever he worried Nezumi would mind the way he became distracted. And while there were times when Nezumi would feign irritation, he found Shion’s light-hearted attitude endearing.

“Quite a long trip, wasn’t it?” Nezumi said after a moment of dragged out, awkward silence. Shion blinked up at him through long, silver lashes. “You must be exhausted, or hungry, perhaps?”

Shion folded his arms over his chest. “Straight to the point, then. If you’re not careful, people might think you’re addicted”

There was a teasing edge to his voice, and hearing it filled Nezumi with warmth. This was part of the ritual he enjoyed—the game of back and forth.

“I’m just trying to be a gracious host,” Nezumi replied. He brushed his hair over one shoulder, exposing the long column of his bare throat. Shion’s eyes flashed, and Nezumi smirked. “It would be rude not to offer my guest something to drink.”

Shion didn’t say anything. After a moment, Nezumi began to feel a bit awkward. But he was an actor—and a pretty damn good one, at that—so he continued to run fingers through his hair, wincing whenever he encountered a knot. He studied the pile of books Shion had been pawing through, ignoring the way his heart hammered behind his ribs.

Shion sighed. “Nezumi, it’s just—”

Nezumi’s chest tightened. _Shit_. He’d often wondered if there was a point where he was pushing too far, but he’d always assumed Shion would _tell_ him if he didn’t want to do it. “Shion, look, if you don’t want to, then I’m not going to force—”

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to,” Shion interjected. He sounded firm and sure, and the ball of tension forming in Nezumi’s stomach began to dissipate. “I _do_. I’m just worried that we might be doing this too much, and it could be affecting you. I don’t want you to feel you have to do something you don’t want to do.”

Nezumi bit back the snarky retort dancing on the edge of his tongue. There was a time and a place for jokes. Shion worried about everything, but Nezumi was getting better at not poking fun at him for it. When it came to Nezumi’s well-being, Shion always asked questions. He always wanted to know that Nezumi was doing things he wanted to do.

After a moment, Shion asked, “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to,” Nezumi said. “I’m not prone to charity the way you are.”

Shion exhaled, a startled laugh bubbling out of his throat. Nezumi had to struggle not to roll his eyes. For a top-tier predator, Shion tended to ignore opportunity when it landed in his lap.

“Well,” Shion replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “if you insist. All right, then.”

Nezumi perched on the edge of the bed, making a valiant attempt to look cool and in control and not at all like the over-eager wreck he was deep down. He opened his arms. “Whenever you’re ready."

Shion climbed up onto the bed with Nezumi, straddling his waist, and wrapped his arms around Nezumi’s shoulders. He bit his lower lip. Nezumi caught the edges of needle-sharp fangs, reflecting the light like a miniature star, and a shock of terrified excitement bolted up his spine.

Nezumi felt a little bit silly for a moment. His heart was beating too fast, he was sitting awkwardly on the bed, and he wondered if Shion could feel him shaking. He wasn’t afraid, but whenever he and Shion did this, he often found himself nervous and totally not in control of his own emotions. It didn’t make sense.

He arched his neck. He felt Shion’s cool breath on the section of flesh between his throat and his left shoulder. There would be pain, for only a moment, but it wouldn’t be terrible. It never was.

Shion’s lips parted, the tips of his fangs brushing Nezumi’s shoulder—not his neck, never his neck, because Shion seemed to always forget that Nezumi was not fragile and fangs in his neck wouldn’t kill him—and there was an electric bolt of pain.

Nezumi made a low, groaning sound in the back of his throat. He was quiet until what came next: the intoxicating flood of pleasure, raw and hot and so sudden that he couldn’t fight back the gasp that burst out of him.

There had to be some scientific explanation behind it, a chemical composition or enzyme in Shion’s saliva that triggered the release of dopamine in his victims and prevented them from struggling.

“Ngh,” Nezumi groaned, rocking up hard against Shion. Knowing there was a logical explanation for the reaction he experienced didn’t make it any less overwhelming. Nezumi couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt this good, as if every nerve in his body had been set on fire.

Shion’s arms slipped under his shirt, fingertips tracing over the notches of his spine, the burn scars he’d kept hidden most of his life. Shion ground against Nezumi just as hard. Nezumi wondered, briefly, if there would be bruises on his thighs in the morning.

Shion made small moaning sounds against his shoulder, lips and tongue teasing the sensitive skin. It felt wonderful and intoxicating. Nezumi was weightless, electricity sending shudders down his spine.

“Shion,” Nezumi gasped, his hands trailing to Shion’s face, fingers cupping his cheek, thumb tracing the crimson scar beneath his left eye. “_Shion_.”

One of Shion’s hands moved from Nezumi’s spine and reached down, skillfully finding the zipper of Nezumi’s jeans. He pressed his hand against the warm, hard bit of flesh there—and Nezumi groaned, clinging to Shion in a way that would have made him feel ridiculous in the company of anyone other than Shion.

He felt amazing—weightless and breathless and burning hot. Every small sensation was magnified. Shion’s hand moved against him, quick little movements that were much better than they’d been last time. He’d been doing a bit of practice, it seemed. Nezumi arched against him, fingers digging into Shion’s hair and pulling. He felt Shion gasp against his neck, and the pleasurable fog in Nezumi’s head cleared just long enough for him to wonder if he might have pulled too hard.

It didn’t last long. It never did. Nezumi probably should have felt embarrassed about reaching a breaking point so early, but it was hard to do anything else when he felt this good. When Shion was warm and solid in his lap, making those arousing little sounds against his throat. There was nothing remotely fair about it, so Nezumi doubted anyone could hold it against him.

Nezumi dug his fingers into Shion’s skull and buried his face in his hair as he came. He sunk his teeth into his lip and tried to hold back the sounds he made. Shion, who had been doing this with Nezumi long enough to recognize when he’d had enough, retracted his fangs and pressed soothing little kisses around Nezumi’s shoulder.

The bite marks never bled much, either. Nezumi figured it must have been another chemical in Shion’s saliva that was intended to keep his victims from bleeding to death. It didn’t matter. Nezumi didn’t have that much interest in the healing qualities of vampire spit.

Shion rested his head against the crook of Nezumi’s throat and shoulder. He kept quiet as Nezumi caught his breath, coming down from his pleasure high with a mixture of breathless gasps and small shudders. The edges of Nezumi’s vision were spotted with gray and crimson, but that, too, would fade.

“Are you all right?” Shion murmured against him after a few moments. The tips of his fangs were gone, retracted completely into his mouth. Nezumi was a bit disappointed, but also grateful. He didn’t know if he could last a second time so soon after the first.

“Fine,” Nezumi replied, and he was pleased to find that he only sounded a little out of breath. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he’d been doing this with Shion long enough for Shion to know. One day Nezumi would be brave enough to say it. For now, he was content to let his actions and gestures speak louder than any words he could ever hope to say.

Shion shifted in Nezumi’s lap. “We should probably shower.” Nezumi didn’t have to look at him to know that his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glittering. “You still have hot water, don’t you?”

“Probably,” Nezumi replied. Shion shifted off him so Nezumi could stand. When he tried, he felt a bit dizzy, the edges of his vision blurring. It wasn’t new, but it was almost endearing to see that look of pale concern flicker across Shion’s face.

Shion reached a hand out and caught Nezumi’s wrist. “Maybe you should lie down.” He drew small circles on Nezumi’s wrist with his thumb, and even that small pressure was enough to send small shocks through Nezumi’s oversensitive body. “Just for a minute.”

Nezumi didn’t feel like arguing. Shion suggesting it meant Nezumi didn’t have to embarrass himself by trying to imply that he wanted to lay in bed all day with him. “All right,” he murmured, and his heart lit up at the relieved smile that flickered across Shion’s face.

He let Shion steer him back down to the bed, and once he was no longer vertical, Nezumi opened his arms and silently gestured for Shion to join him.

And he was grateful—so fucking grateful—when Shion dropped into the warm cage of his arms without a word. Shion’s lips pressed against the bite wound on his shoulder, and Nezumi’s heart did that fluttering thing it always did whenever Shion was around. Nezumi buried his nose against Shion’s hair, smelling blood and salt and geranium soap.

He wanted to kiss him. He wasn’t going to until Shion washed the blood out of his mouth. For the time being, Nezumi was content to be like this: laying together in silence, arms wrapped around each other, their hearts slowing down in perfect time with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a _big_ thanks to WhiteEevee for betaing this part of the piece for me! It was made much better than the original draft because of her amazing suggestions! <3
> 
> Thank you all for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I'm moving this weekend, and once the move is official, I will have my desktop set up and I will be able to keep writing more. I am going to be editing and finished my fae AU, so I hope you all will enjoy that once it's up!
> 
> Happy Halloween, all! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this, everyone! And once again, a big thanks to WhiteEevee for betaing this piece for me so it was ready to be posted here on Ao3. <3
> 
> For those who are interested, the second chapter is an NSFW continuation of this piece. I separated them on the off-chance people were not interested in reading the NSFW version, but wanted to enjoy the vampire one-shot!
> 
> See you all next time! <3


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